


Shadow of the Bat

by badwolf_doctor



Series: Ashes to Ashes [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Also Red Hood, Babs is a total mother hen, Bat Angst, Batfamily adventures, Booster Gold's time-travelling shenanigans, Cass Cain Batgirl, Dick Grayson is a sucker for red heads, Oracle is in everybody's business, Robins helping Robins, Slightly AU from the Arkham games, Tim Drake does his best Batman impression, and spoiler, appearances by random Bat villains, lots of pop culture references, references to the larger DCU, special guest appearances by Huntress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolf_doctor/pseuds/badwolf_doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The inmates are running Arkham Asylum as part of a fiendish plot concocted by the Joker and Batman is locked inside with them while the rest of Gotham City is left unprotected. It's up to the rest of the Batfamily and their allies to keep the city safe. Whatever the outcome of this night, things in Gotham City will never be the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadow of the Bat

**Author's Note:**

> The subtitle for this fic is: _The Boys Night Out Job_ and there's a planned companion fic focusing on Cass Cain and Stephanie Brown subtitled _The Girls Night Out Job_ (because who doesn't love a Leverage reference?)

                Gotham City was under attack. This was nothing new, Gotham City was always under attack by one villain or another. This time, the threat came from the Clown Prince of Crime himself—that nefarious madman, the Joker. He had stormed the Gotham City Art Gallery with a handful of goons, committing crime #5 in what appeared to be a zodiac themed spree. The purpose unknown, but considering it was the Joker, the purpose could be simply to catch headlines, or to cause panic, or there could be no rhyme nor reason to the plot; no method to his madness. Whatever the reason, he was there and he had hostages. The GCPD had the building surrounded but given the sheer unpredictability of the Joker, they couldn’t simply storm the building for the sake of the hostages. But this was Gotham City, and the police were not alone when dealing with madmen—they had Batman! Even now the Caped Crusader was making his way through the vents and up to the main gallery. His first priority would be to take out the joker’s henchmen, that way there was less likely to be collateral damage when he took out the Joker. Sometimes, he wondered why he left that monster alive after everything he had done. It would be so easy to break his neck; few would mourn him and he could even justify it—for Barbara Gordon who had lost the use of her legs, for Jason Todd, the boy who’d been beaten to death alone and far from home; for every person who had ever had their lives torn apart by that madman. But, that was why he _couldn’t_ do it. Batman had always had only one rule—no killing. If he broke that rule, if he let himself become an instrument of revenge instead of justice then he was no better than those he hunted. For the sake of Gotham, he had to be better than them. He was still only human though and no amount of training or restraint could stop him from considering it.

 

                The Joker stood at the back of the room next to a large statue of a woman carrying some sort of vase or basket. The plaque next to it claimed it was of Greek origins—a washer woman. But Bruce had spent enough time with Diana to recognize a Themyscaran work of art. The clothing of the woman coupled with the bracers on her arms and the telltale chunk missing from the side where a sword once hung marked the woman depicted as an Amazon. No doubt this was the Joker’s intended Aquarius, the water-bearer. The hostages appeared to be sequestered in a back office with only two guards watching them. His suit’s thermal sensors showed there were five other henchmen in the room. The trick now would be slipping passed them and getting to the hostages without raising the alarm. With stealth that was surprising considering he was wearing heavy body armor, Batman removed the grate separating him from the room and dropped it silently to the floor. The readings from the suit indicated that the first of the Joker’s henchmen stood only a few feet away from him with his back to the Dark Knight. Batman crept up behind him and silently took him down. How many times had he done this very thing? Almost too many to count. It would be going faster if he had help. He’d grown too used to having a partner—or some night, partners, depending on who was in Gotham on a given night. But he’d left Robin behind tonight, though Tim had argued valiantly against it. He couldn’t let Robin help him stop the Joker, not tonight. Not when it was the anniversary of Jason Todd’s death.

 

After Dick had left, he had missed having a partner. And when he’d met Jason and seen in him something of himself, he’d taken the boy in and given him a purpose in the hopes that Jason wouldn’t end up in jail or like him. But he’d never gotten the chance to fully embrace the role of Robin, the Joker had seen to that. Sometimes at night he thought of that terrible night. Of his frantic race to the warehouse and how he’d been too late to save Jason. He wondered if the boy had been scared in his last moments, or if he’d been angry that Batman hadn’t shown up to save him. Losing a partner—a son, had nearly broken him in a way that nothing else had. He had wanted so badly to break his one rule, to finally put an end to the Joker and all the other criminals in Gotham. Then, Tim had shown up one day, having deduced his identity and had offered himself as Robin simply because ‘ **Batman _needs_ a Robin’**. Tim had managed to pull Bruce from the darkness in a way that Dick and Barbara hadn’t, despite their best efforts and the thought of losing Tim to the monster terrified him. So if pissing Robin off by leaving him behind was the only way to keep him safe from the Joker, then so be it. Bruce would rather deal with Tim’s anger than bury another child.

 

There was something about this whole situation that seemed odd. The Joker’s thugs wore no heartbeat monitors the way they normally did and for the most part they didn’t move around the room. They merely stood in one place, defacing works of art with Joker grins and splotches of bright green and white. The layout of the room and the position of the henchmen was almost perfect, as if it were designed to give him the advantage. He would have to be careful from here on out, lest he fall into a trap. He had taken out two guards now and moved to take down the henchmen guarding the main doors. These, he snuck up behind and cracked their heads together with perhaps more force than was necessary—the pair would certainly feel that in the morning. Surely, Batman thought, someone had heard the commotion and would come running. Though he had moved back to the shadows and braced himself for a fight, no one came. As he continued onwards, the feeling that he was walking into some sort of trap intensified. But he couldn’t stop now. He had to free the hostages. Batman crouched back down and moved silently around to the office—he dove through the window, smashing one goon into the concrete floor; a well thrown batarang disarmed the second man, who he then tackled to the ground; a hard right hook rendered the unfortunate man unconscious.

 

“Batman!” one of the hostages whispered enthusiastically. “Thank goodness you showed up!”

 

“I thought they were going to kill us.” Another hostage said.

 

Batman told them, “Stay here and keep your heads down. This will be over soon.”

 

Leaving the way that he had entered, he made his way to the last remaining thug. This one too went down without a fuss. Now, only the Joker was left. Employing the same method that he’d used with the henchmen, Batman crept along the wall, hidden in shadows until he was behind the Joker. As if he’d sensed him, the Clown Prince of crime turned to face his nemesis with arms opened wide.

 

“Ah, Batsy!” he exclaimed warmly. “I thought you’d have been here **ages** ago—you’re late young man. Tsk, tsk. I imagine by now you’ve incapacitated by poor boys and freed those pesky hostages.” He sighed dramatically, pressing one hand to his forehead like some southern belle prone to swooning lamenting over her lost love in a romance novel. “Good help is so hard to find these days. I try and I try but there’s simply no one left—you’ve thrown them all in the hoosegow.” The Joker shrugged and dropped the act. “Oh well. I guess it’s just you and me now.” He shifted stances and put up his fists. “Let’s settle this like men—mano a mano, clown vs bat, the way it should be. Go on Bats, I’ll give you the first shot free!”

 

One punch sent the arch criminal sprawling onto the floor. He laughed through the blood in his mouth as Batman hauled him to his feet and slapped a pair of handcuffs onto skinny wrists.

 

“Good shot Batsy.” He crowed. “That one’s going to leave a mark.”

 

Batman marched the Joker to the front doors and threw them open—the TAC team rushed inside to secure the room and Batman could see the EMTs waiting just outside to check on the hostages. Detective Montoya met Batman out in front of the building. She was one of Gordon’s best and brightest, one of the few cops on the force that had never been accused of being dirty. And one of the few cops who saw the necessity of Batman.

 

“Nice job.” She praised. “The Commissioner says that he’ll meet you at Arkham. He wants to be there when this freak goes away. Our boys have cleared the roads through to Arkham, so you shouldn’t have any problem getting there.” She paused, looking over the man who had caused the city so much trouble. “I can have someone take the Joker, if you want.”

 

Batman shook his head. “I’ll take him myself.” He told Montoya. “There’s something strange going on here.” And he wasn’t going to let the Joker out of his sight until he knew what was going on.

 

“Something strange is going on, says the man dressed as a bat about the man dressed as a clown.” Montoya teased. Strange was a relative term in Gotham. What was strange in places like Midway City or Blue Valley were fairly normal for Gotham City. It was like a beacon for the strange and the weird.

 

The Batmobile arrived at the touch of a button and Batman tossed the half-conscious villain into the passenger seat, securing him to the dash with handcuffs. With a nod to Detective Montoya, Batman climbed behind the wheel of the Batmobile and off he went.

 

“Good luck!” Montoya wished the rapidly departing hero.

 

                Meanwhile, elsewhere in Gotham City, a different hero was in a far different situation. Dick Grayson was back in Gotham. This wasn’t too strange an occurrence. For though he had moved to Blϋdhaven to get out of Batman’s shadow, that didn’t mean he wanted nothing to do with him or Robin. They were a family. A family full of highly skilled liars who weren’t great at hugging; a little broken, maybe a little dysfunctional but a family all the same. And he would always be there for his family. What made this visit different was that he wasn’t in Gotham for work. His college roommate, football star Brian Rogers was back in town for a few days and Dick had come to see him. Currently, the pair were seated in a pub in downtown Gotham.

 

“So, you’re living in Blϋdhaven now?” Brian asked curiously.

 

Dick nodded. “Yeah, been there a few years now. I’m a security consultant there.” By day at least. By night, he clamored over the rooftops as the vigilante Nightwing! (But it would probably be best if he left that part out. Revealing himself as Nightwing could also give away Bruce and Tim’s secret identities.)

 

“And how’s that working out for you?” Brian inquired. He wasn’t at all surprised by Dick’s chosen profession or by the move to Blϋdhaven. The other man had always been the type to make things better. And from what Brian had heard about Blϋdhaven, it was certainly the place where Dick could do the most good.

 

Dick laughed at his question. “Well, it’s definitely never boring.” And how could it be? Gotham City might be bad, but somehow Blϋdhaven managed to be even worse. It was Gotham’s half-forgotten little sister across the river, where the dregs of Gotham ran. However, just like Gotham, it had its good places and good people who didn’t deserve to be abandoned. That was why Nightwing was needed in Blϋdhaven, to protect the innocent that would otherwise be forgotten. The television above the bar caught Dick’s attention; there was a hostage situation at the art gallery—it was the Joker. A part of him wanted to suit up and head out, but he knew Bruce would rather be alone tonight. He’d bet anything that Tim was suited up and pacing around the cave with nothing to do and nowhere to go.

 

“That’s one thing I certainly don’t miss about Gotham—the criminals.” Brian remarked.

 

Dick nodded that he understood. Gotham City attracted a certain caliber of criminal that normally you didn’t see anywhere else.

 

As the waitress handed them their next round, Brian said, “Do you remember that time when Scarecrow was dosing athletes and betting on the games?”

 

How could Dick forget that? Brian had a complete meltdown on the field and his own meltdown had come several hundred feet up in the air. It had been terrifying—not just the fear itself, though that had been plenty terrifying, but the fact that he, the son of acrobats and who had practically been raised on a high wire was afraid of heights… It was as if the last piece of his parents had been taken from him and he’d been terrified that he’d never get it back. Luckily though, the fear toxin had worn off fairly quickly.

 

“Of course I remember that.” Dick replied. “I handled your mail and got a pretty good dose of fear toxin myself. But everything worked out in the end—everyone recovered and the Scarecrow went to Arkham.” He finished with a smile.

 

“Thanks to Batman and Robin, it did.” Brian added; he didn’t notice when Dick’s smile faltered. There were times when he missed the simple joys of being Robin. He missed that near perfect relationship with Bruce. Sure, the one they had now was better in the long run, more honest, if at times a bit strained. But things had seemed so much simpler, so much easier when he was in the green and red. A lot had changed since those days. There had been two Robins since he’d worn the costume—Jason Todd, whom they rarely spoke of. (Bruce had never really recovered from the boy’s death. The days afterwards had been dark days, both Bruce and Batman were almost unrecognizable.) The current Robin was Tim Drake. And Tim was a Robin of a different sort. He was a world class detective already; given time who knew what sort of master sleuth he’d be? He was sometimes more Batman-like than Batman. Timmy could brood with the best of them. He was a world class brooder, though on the whole he was far less broody than the old man. (Which was probably a good thing—too much angst in the Batcave and it was liable to explode or something equally awful). He wasn’t as chatty as Robin as Dick had been. But then again, who was? His chattiness was part of his charm. Tim’s sense of humor was dryer than Dick’s as well. But he was probably more suited to the vigilante life than anyone else. “Speaking of things working out in the end,” Brian changed the subject. “Are you still seeing the Police Commissioner’s daughter?”

 

Dick felt his face flush. He really hoped Oracle wasn’t listening in. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked a bit sheepish. “Define ‘ _seeing’_.” He said. “I still see on occasion and sometimes we hang out and have dinner but it’s not really a relationship of a romantic sort in the strictest sense.”

 

“I just remember that you were crazy about that girl.” Brian commented.

 

“Yeah, still am—we just decided we were better as friends.” Things were complicated and ~~all~~ most of it was his fault. Dick’s problem (well, one of them) was that he was a sucker for a nice smile. Oh, and redheads. He _loved_ redheads. Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally, hell, even Kate though those feelings were all one-sided. He had a tendency to confuse loving somebody with being **in love** with somebody. Oh, and he was a complete asshole on occasion. A cheery, smiling asshole but an asshole nonetheless. Thankfully, he was spared more of that line of thought by another newscast. Batman had caught the Joker and had taken him to Arkham. Good. At least the city would have a slight reprieve from that madman…at least, until he broke out again and that was a question of _when_ not _if_. But still, the Joker would be off the streets and Gothamites could feel a little safer in their homes.

 

                Tim Drake was **not** a happy camper to say the very least. He understood that he couldn’t be at Batman’s side 24/7—they each had superhero lives outside of Gotham; Bruce with the Justice League and him with Young Justice. But he was **here** in **Gotham**. And _still_ Batman had left him behind. ‘ _Not tonight, Tim’_. He had said. And just like that, he’d climbed into the Batmobile and driven off into the night. Tim had forgotten how irritating that was. In recent years, Batman had stopped treating him like a sidekick and started treating him like an equal. Dick liked to joke that it was because he was a mini Batman. He didn’t agree; he wasn’t nearly broody enough. But he _was_ a better detective than Dick had been at his age. Not that Dick wasn’t an above average detective. That just wasn’t the part of the job Dick loved the most. For Tim, it was about justice and the _mystery_ , the whos, the whys & the hows. But for Dick, it was about justice and the thrills. Dick adored jumping off buildings in a way that probably wasn’t entirely healthy. Tim supposed it reminded Dick of growing up in the circus, that it was a way for him to connect with those he had lost.

 

Tonight though, Batman was treating him like a sidekick once more. Tim had an idea of the cause but no proof. There had been a Robin between himself and Dick. His name had been Jason and he’d been killed by the Joker. That was all anyone would say on the subject. None of them talked about it; not Alfred, or Dick, not Barbara and certainly not Bruce. If not for the Robin costume left as a memorial in the Batcave, Tim would doubt that Jason has ever existed. If Tim had to guess, he would say that tonight was the anniversary of Jason’s death and that as the reason that Batman had sidelined him. While that kind of thought was understandable, it was still irritating. He wasn’t Dick and he wasn’t Jason. He had figured out Batman’s secret all on his own and sought him out—he had wanted this job in a way the others hadn’t. He didn’t need to be protected. He had lost friends and faced death and he had survived. He could handle the Joker. He huffed in frustration before flopping down into the chair at the Batcomputer with a petulance he hoped no one saw. There was nothing going on out in the city. In fact, it was eerily quiet and still, like a graveyard.

 

“Robin to Oracle,” Perhaps the all-seeing Barbara Gordon would have something for him to do? Tim didn’t know how they did this job before Oracle; she kept them connected and appraised of anything going on that required their attention. Still, he knew that if Barbara was given a chance to regain the use of her legs and become Batgirl once more, she’d take it and not look back and who could blame her? He wasn’t sure that in her place he’d have handled things half as well. Barbara Gordon was incredibly strong, to say the least.

 

“This is Oracle, go ahead Robin.”

 

                Barbara Gordon had reinvented herself after that terrible day. She no longer had nightmares of opening the door to the green hair, pale face and wide bloody grin of the Joker; no longer dreamt of the sound of a gunshot signaling the end of all she loved. But she thought about it often. And how could she not? But, though she might not be able to jump off rooftops anymore, there wasn’t a system that she couldn’t hack and she would be damned if she’d let that painted psychopath stop her from helping people. She could still instruct others; she’d passed the mantle of Batgirl to Cassandra Cain. And she could still be out in the field with the team and have their backs, even if she could no longer physically be present. She was resilient and she wouldn’t stop helping people until the day she died.

 

“How are things in Gotham?” Tim asked.

 

Babs hid a smile at the question. Tim Drake was a worrier where his adoptive father was concerned. And she could understand his worry. Tim had come into their lives when all of them were at their lowest. He’d seen firsthand how much Batman needed and Robin and though he knew Batman was capable of taking care of himself, he still worried when he wasn’t there to watch his back. Oracle looked over her wall of information—security cameras, Bruce’s vitals as monitored by the suit, radio frequencies and even social media all painted a clear picture. Everything looked fine. Besides the Joker’s crime spree, Gotham was quiet.

 

“Everything looks fine. It just looks like they’re taking their time processing the Joker at Arkham.” She told him, taking a moment to double check everything—yep, still all clear.

 

She heard Tim sigh. “That makes sense I guess. I was just hoping for something to do.”

 

Barbara chuckled lightly. “All dressed up with nowhere to go, eh Robin?” she asked in amusement.

 

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Tim replied. Most teenagers would be thrilled to have a night off from their responsibilities, but not Tim. He was like Bruce like that.

 

“Do some homework or go to a movie or something, you know, normal teenager stuff.” She suggested.

 

Tim scoffed. “I don’t know any normal teenagers.”

 

Barbara frowned at his words. “I happen to know at least two costumed teenagers who would love to have the night off. Surprise—you know them too! So why don’t you take off the costume, give them a call and pretend to be normal for a night?” she could practically hear him turning the idea over in his mind; he was loath to admit she had a point, much like the other tights wearing men in her life.

 

“Alright,” Tim said after a few moments of contemplation. “You’ll let me know if anything happens, right?”

 

“Of course!” she was offended that he even had to ask that question. “Oracle out.” She shut off the comm before Tim could talk himself out of having fun for an evening. It was difficult to balance a normal teenage social life with certain nocturnal extracurricular activities. Barbara knew that all too well. And even when one managed to somewhat balance them, there was always something that got neglected—schoolwork, love interests, _fun_. Her relationship with Dick had suffered from that (among many other things). She still cared about him and they were good friends but sometimes, she missed being young and in love with an occasionally pantsless acrobat. So, if she had to play mother hen to make sure that Tim and Cass and Steph had lived outside of the mask, then she would gladly play that role. It was hell to build your life around a world only to one-day wake to the realization that you can no longer be part of it. Barbara especially felt called to make sure that Stephanie knew when to walk away from the job. She saw a lot of herself in the younger girl—the same reckless abandon and drive to prove herself as a hero in her own right. After Black Mask had nearly beat Stephanie to death last year, Barbara had been driven to take the girl under her wing—to show her how to survive in this game no matter what was thrown at them. And it had worked. Spoiler was a more efficient and effective crime fighter than ever; especially when teamed with Batgirl. There was very little that Cass and Steph couldn’t handle when they worked together. She was proud of them both. It was hard being a woman in this life, and it helped to have friends.

 

                Stephanie Brown probably should have taken her near-death experience as a wakeup call and gotten out of the hero game, but spoiler alert (ha!) she wasn’t going to. She helped people and she liked the feeling of making a difference. Even if the hero gig made everything more difficult, from the relationship with her mom, to schoolwork—it was all worth it. She was proud to say that she made a difference in her city. And she got to fly through the air and kick ass with arguably one of the most badass people in existence! You could fight her over Cass’ status as biggest badass. She loved that batsuit wearing, beautiful, deadly ninja. And while their friendship was a bit unconventional, she was glad to call Cass Cain her best friend. The pair were currently waiting for Tim Drake to show up. He’d called a little earlier and said that Oracle had ordered all of them to have a night of normal teenage fun. So, they were going to catch a movie. Steph couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something so normal. She was looking forward to it. Cass and Tim were no doubt secretly looking for a way out of the normalcy, but she was going to embrace it, if only for a night.

 

Tim arrived a few moments later, in one of Bruce Wayne’s lesser high end cars (though there was nothing about the car less than high end in Stephanie’s point of view).

 

“Hey guys.” Tim greeted.

 

“Alright!” Stephanie exclaimed excitedly. “Let’s get this mandatory night of fun started!” she hopped into the backseat of the car as Cass climbed into the passenger seat. “Are you guys excited? I’m excited.” Steph said, draping one arm around each of the seats in front of her and leaning forward, placing her squarely in both Cass and Tim’s space. Cassandra chuckled at her exuberance. Though Cass had become more expressive since becoming a full time member of the ‘Batfamily’, she was still considerably terser than Stephanie (who was almost as chatty as Nightwing.) But truthfully, Steph’s exuberance was what Cass liked best about her. She enjoyed life, she made mistakes, she lived and she loved unashamedly; sometimes Cass envied that about her.

 

                Oracle watched as Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler’s signals moved off together. She was glad they were taking her advice. There was one other soul on Oracle’s radar and Babs knew that it was no use to try to get her to take a break. No, Helena Bertinelli, aka the Huntress would only take a night off on _her_ terms—her terms usually being a ‘date’ with the vigilante known as the Question, and Helena’s idea of a date being running around on rooftops and hunting down bad guys. They certainly were a strange couple but hey, in this business you took your happiness wherever you could find it.

 

“Oracle to Huntress,” she opened a channel to her comrade. “How’s it going out there? Need any help?” Barbara highly doubted Helena would admit if she did need help. As a child, she watched her family be murdered by a rival mob boss and after that, she never truly had anything that resembled a family until Bruce had unofficially adopted her into his group of masked heroes prowling Gotham City; Helena sometimes struggled with Batman’s ‘ _no killing’_ rule but she was determined to prove she belonged as a part of this team.

 

“Oh no, O.” The other woman replied. Oracle picked her up on a security camera near the Solomon Wayne Court House. She watched as the purple-clad fighter brought her staff up to break one attacker’s nose before flipping over another and landing gracefully on her feet behind him. “Everything’s fine. I’m just teaching some of Penguin’s men a lesson on manners and waiting on Q to show up for a date.” Barbara could hear the smile in Helena’s voice as she punched another thug in the face. “It’s tons of fun—I’m having a great time.”

 

Oracle laughed and shook her head at her friend. “Don’t you have papers to grade?” Both Barbara and Helena taught at Gotham University—Barbara, physics and Helena, history.

 

“Of course, but what’s the point of having a TA if I can’t delegate work to them?” Helena replied.

 

Alarms cut off whatever Barbara was going to reply—something was going on at Arkham. “Stand by Huntress—something’s happening at the asylum. Your assistance may be needed. Return to the Clocktower and await confirmation.”

 

“Understood. It figures you’d find a way to interrupt my date.” Huntress acknowledged as she took down the last of the Penguin’s thugs. “Heading your way.”

 

“Oracle out.” Barbara ended the call and opened the police channel she’d had running in the background.

 

_I repeat, there’s been a breakout at Arkham. All officers to Arkham Island._

 

Damn, that wasn’t good! As far as she knew, both her father and Batman were still on the island—likely still in the asylum as well. So much for a quiet night, and so much for the youngest vigilantes getting a night off; something told her that it was going to be an all hands on deck kind of night.

 

“Oracle to Batgirl, Spoiler and Robin—breakout at Arkham, Batman and Commissioner still inside. Return to cave and await further information.”

 

“Robin acknowledged.” She heard Tim reply.

 

“Spoiler and Batgirl too.” Stephanie’s voice said.

 

That took care of most of them. But there was still one other costumed vigilante in Gotham tonight—Nightwing. She knew he was in town to visit his old college roommate and while she hated to interrupt, she knew that Dick would rather be informed of the situation. Pulling out her phone, she sent him a text:

 

_Need u @ Manor. Family Emergency._

               

Dick Grayson’s phone buzzed on the table, interrupting the story he was telling Brian about the time he’d tried to teach Tim to drive (the Robincycle, but he’d left that part out). The text was from Barbara, alerting him to a satiation—that was never a good sign.

 

“Ah Brian, I’m sorry.” Dick said, standing up. He pulled out his wallet and laid a few bills on the table. “There’s some kind of emergency out at the manor; I need to go make sure everything is ok.” He tucked his wallet back into his back pocket before slipping on his jacket and putting his phone into the inside pocket.

 

“It’s not a problem, Dick.” Brian replied. “I’ll be in town for a few more days—let me know when you’re next available and we can try this again.”

 

Dick smiled. “Sure thing.” He promised. Dick gave his friend one last wave before disappearing out the front doors. Whatever was going on tonight, Dick would lay odds it had to do with the Joker. There was a feeling he always got, a swelling dread in the pit of his stomach, whenever the Joker was involved. And boy, was he ever feeling it now. He hopped into his car and headed as quickly as he could towards Wayne Manor. He turned the key in the ignition and was assaulted by obnoxiously loud and catchy 80’s pop songs from the mix he’d made for his and Wally West’s yearly vacation. He pushed the off button a little harder than he’d intended. The drive to Wayne Manor was a long one, he’d been in a pub in the heart of the city and the manor itself was on the outskirts. The drive was made to feel even longer due to the growing dread at not knowing what was happening. His relationship with Bruce might not always be good but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. The man had taken him in when he hadn’t had anyone else. He’d given a frightened boy a home and then a mission. Dick would always worry about him—especially on this night. He remembered how Bruce had been after Jason’s death; how they had all been and it hadn’t been their finest moment. They were family and losing family was always difficult.

 

He knew exactly how Tim must be feeling—useless, like a caged animal. It was bad enough when Batman got into trouble and Robin was there to help but to be confined to the cave while who knows what happened would be maddening—especially to Tim. Dick was careful not to run any stoplights or stop signs on his way out to the Manor. It wouldn’t do anyone good if he got delayed from being pulled over for speeding. As he rounded the mountain, the gates of stately Wayne Manor opened at the touch of a button. His breaks squealed as he slammed on them, threw his car into park and somehow managed to remember to grab his keys from the ignition as he got out of the car with a speed that astonished him. Alfred had the front door open before he could even get to it.

 

“Master Tim and the others are downstairs, as it your spare suit.” Alfred said in lieu of ‘hello’. Alfred was the most stable parental figure most of the Batfamily had ever had, including Batman. No doubt he was just was worried about Bruce as the rest of them.

 

“Thanks, Alfred.” Dick said, brushing by the butler and heading straight for the grandfather clock that contained the hidden staircase to the Batcave. Tim was already down there, as was Cass Cain and Stephanie Brown; all of them were standing by the Batcomputer and in full costume. Man, those kids needed lives.

 

“Suit up.” Tim said in what was a rather spot on Batman impression that may or may not have been intentional. “There’s a problem at Arkham. Batman might need our help.”

 

Dick scoffed from the changing room. “Not that he’d ask for it himself.” Not in so many words at least. He’d say: ‘go here’ and ‘do this’ and they knew they were helping but never once did Batman ever say ‘ _I need your help’._ That just wasn’t how he was wired. Once Dick was changed into his spare suit, he headed over to the others. A news report was playing on the computer; Vicki Vale was just visible in a crowd of police officers and terrified onlookers.

 

_“No more than 20 minutes ago, there was a riot inside of Arkham Asylu that led to a breakout. The police have shut down the island in response to the massive breakout apparently organized by the Joker. We’ve no word on any of the staff inside the building at this time.”_

“Shit.” Dick said, moving to stand to Tim’s left.

 

“Seconded.” Steph agreed.

 

“It’s the same report basically everywhere.” Tim told him, switching over to a different station. This time, Summer Gleason graced the screen. Personally, Dick had always preferred Summer to any other newscaster—it might’ve had something to do with her being a redhead; not that Dick had a type or anything…except that yeah, he totally did.

 

“ _Chaos reigns at Arkham as a massive breakout staged by the Joker has left the asylum cut off from the outside world and in the city in a state of panic. No word yet on the Joker’s demands or the fate of those inside the facility.”_

“We need to be in there.” Tim insisted.

 

Dick was torn between his loyalty to Batman and his need to protect the innocent. If word got out that Batman was stuck in Arkham then it was liable to be bedlam out there in the city; bad guys of all shapes and sizes would be coming out of the woodwork like roaches in a cheap apartment. He sighed and slipped his earpiece in.

 

“Nightwing to Oracle,” he opened a channel to Babs.

 

“Hey former boy wonder, welcome to the party.” Barbara’s voice brought a smile to his face the way it always did. No matter what had happened, or would happen between them, she was his first love and a part of him would always love her.

 

“Hey yourself Red. Any word on what’s going on in there?”

 

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Oracle replied. “I just got word from the big guy—he’s fine. Joker’s apparently planted bombs around the city in an effort to keep the police off the island. Joker doesn’t see any reason to doubt him, so he wants the rest of us out looking for the bombs and keeping the city safe.”

 

Tim scoffed beside him. “You’re kidding me, right? If the Joker wants Batman on the island, then that’s all the more reason for one of us to be in there to help him!”

 

Dick didn’t need to see the look on Tim’s face to know how angry he was. He’d gotten that look from Batman many a time and given it in return; he’d recognize it anywhere—arms crossed and a glare that would have sent lesser men running to for the hills. Dick had never successfully been able to pull that look off, but Tim did it spectacularly. In fact, stick that kid in a Batsuit and he’d bet even Alfred couldn’t tell the difference.

 

“If he needs us, he’ll call us.” Nightwing said. “If word gets out that Batman is stuck on Arkham then it’s going to be complete anarchy out there. Add in the threat of the Joker’s bombs and it’s clear where we’re needed most.”

 

                Tim hated it when Dick was right. They could do the most good out in the city and Batman could handle himself. But it was still frustrating. Robin’s place was at Batman’s side; they were a team. He wanted to be in Arkham, helping Batman, not out here; Nightwing and the others could handle crowd control and the Joker’s supposed bombs. “So Batman’s stuck in Arkham where the _real_ fight is and we’re stuck out here with the ‘c’ listers, tracking down bombs that may or may not exist. Wonderful.”

 

“Yeah, he’s off hoggin all the fun—surprise, surprise—looks like the rest of us will have to go find out own.” Dick said, adjusting his mask.

 

“You have a strange definition of the word ‘fun’, Dick.” Tim told him.

 

“Oh yeah?” Dick retorted, looking over at the younger man. “And what exactly do you do in your spare time, Tim?”

 

Tim heard Stephanie try (and fail) to stifle a laugh at that. “Point taken.” He conceded.

 

“Alright, let’s go kick some ass!” Dick said excitedly, clapping Tim on the shoulder.

 

“Stay safe out there, pixie boots.” Oracle said as Nightwing and Robin headed to their bikes.

 

“Yes ma’am.” Dick replied. The motorcycles sped off into the night, the sounds from the engines almost deafening.

 

                The girls were now alone in the cave. They’d stayed mostly quiet throughout Nightwing and Robin’s argument, it wasn’t their place. Now though, they could get to work. “Batgirl to Oracle, where do you want us to go?” Cass asked.

 

“Rendezvous with Huntress at the coordinates I’m about to send you. This city is too big for the boys to search all of it.” Oracle replied.

 

 

                If there was one thing Dick missed about living full time in Gotham, it was the rooftops. Blϋdhaven had some nice views, but none were as nice as Gotham’s. Or maybe being on a rooftop in Gotham was like coming home. He loved Gotham. Or maybe he loved the nostalgia of it all. The nights spent running around Gotham rooftops with Batman had made him who he was today. Nothing compared to the utter freedom he’d felt as a kid in this city. He might’ve been in desperate need of pants and he’d hated the cape but those had been some of the best times of his life. But he wasn’t made to stay here; he wasn’t content as a sidekick, stuck in the shadow of the Bat—he was a showman, like his parents before him and he had always needed to be center stage. Tim had been correct when he had said that Batman needed a Robin (even if it wasn’t him). There needed to be a sidekick dressed in flash colors, willing to dispense justice with a side of puns; to serve as a distraction when necessary and a reminder to Batman that what he does makes a difference. Without a partner, without a Robin, it was far too easy for Bruce to be tempted to cross the line. Tim was a good Robin—probably the best one yet and far more of a partner than a sidekick. As far as intelligence went, he was probably even smarter than Bruce. And if any one of them was going to pick up the mantle of Batman in the future (something Dick didn’t like to think about often because he knew Bruce would never willingly retire from the life, he’d die first) it would be Tim.

 

Speaking of his companion, the younger hero stood on the ledge of the rooftop of Ace Chemicals, apparently as lost in thought as Nightwing.

 

“Don’t worry Robin,” Nightwing said, moving to stand beside him. “You know Batman can handle whatever they throw at him.”

 

Robin cast a sideways glance at his predecessor and wondered which one of them he was trying to convince. “Oh, I’m not worried about Batman.” He joked. “I’m worried about the inmates trapped in Arkham with him. That is not a place I’d wanna be—especially not tonight.”

 

Nightwing laughed; Robin had a point. As long as Batman kept from getting overwhelmed by villains, the inmates were in far more danger than Batman himself.

 

 

“Oracle to Nightwing and Robin,” Oracle’s voice put an end to whatever bonding moment was going on between current and former boy wonder.

 

“Go ahead O, we’re listening.” Robin responded.

 

“There’s no sign of the Joker’s bombs yet, I’ll keep scanning for them and let you know what I find.” She told them.

 

“This whole search would be a lot easier if Flash were available.” Nightwing said. Having Wally zip around the city and check everywhere for the bombs would make things _soooo_ much easier. Unfortunately, Dick hadn’t so much as heard from Wally since their annual vacation. No doubt the speedster was busy.

 

“Or Superboy.” Robin added. Once you learned to rely on someone, it was difficult to back to doing it all by yourself.

 

“Sadly, you’re stuck with me. I may not have super speed, but I am _very_ good at what I do.” Oracle said. “Hang on a minute,” she added.

 

“Find something?” Nightwing inquired.

 

“Not a bomb.” Oracle replied. “But it looks like the silent alarm at Gotham City Museum has been tripped. You’d better swing by and check it out.” She advised. “I’ll move Huntress to cover your sector and keep looking for bombs while you do that.”

 

“Acknowledged and understood. Robin and Nightwing out.” Robin said.

 

                Nightwing shifted up to the balls of his feet and cast a smirk in Robin’s direction before throwing his arms open wide and diving off the rooftop. “Showoff.” He heard Robin mutter through the comms. Night air came rushing by him as the ground grew ever closer. Down, down, down he went, moment by moment straying closer and closer to death. Until finally, he twisted around, reached one hand down to his belt where his grappler hung and fired off a line that safely anchored him to a nearby building. Nightwing swung through the streets with Robin on his heels, past muck and grime and terrified civilians shut in their homes waiting for the morning to come. Dick hoped that this would all be over by then.

 

                Gotham City Museum wasn’t as big as the one in Metropolis, but it was older—it was he jewel of Gotham City, at least as far as cultural endeavors went. Of course, this meant that it was broken into on a fairly regular basis. Given how many criminals there were in Gotham with very specific gimmicks, that didn’t surprise Nightwing in the least. Two-Face, for example, liked to attempt to steal anything related to the Roman god Janus—thankfully, good ol’ Harv was in Arkham with the big, bad Bat. King Tut was another criminal who broke in often but the alter-ego of the mild mannered Metropolis professor hadn’t made himself known in months. That still left a plethora of other villains for Nightwing and Robin to choose from. The pair landed silently on the rooftop.

 

“You timed that first jump a little close, didn’t you?” Robin’s tone sounded a bit judgemental.

 

Nightwing laughed. Robin was a skilled acrobat, but he didn’t have Nightwing’s near pathological need for daring stunts. It made sense. Nightwing had practically been raised in the air, he felt at home there. While Robin had been raised with both feet planted firmly on the ground, and so he had a normal person’s unease with free falling. “Nah,” Dick replied. “I could do that in my sleep.”

 

Robin scoffed as he picked the lock on the skylight, Nightwing heard it open with a ‘click’. “So could I, but that doesn’t mean that I would.”

 

“C’mon Robin, you’ve gotta learn to trust yourself, trust your gear—live a little.” Nightwing told him.

 

Robin gave him a very Batman-like scowl before dropping down through the open skylight. Nightwing followed him without pause or hesitation.

 

 

                On a nearby rooftop, stood a man cloaked in shadow; his gloves creaked as he held the binoculars up to his masked face. The heroes were just where he wanted them. The Joker actually thought this was _his_ night, _his_ show. But oh, how wrong that maquillaged monster was. The Joker might have been running the show in Arkham, but any and all mischief in Gotham tonight belonged to him. A wide smile covered his face as he put the binoculars back in his jacket pocket. Leaning down and plucking a helmet from the rooftop, he affixed it on his head and prepared for the mayhem to come. He was not the first man to don the Red Hood, merely another in a long line but he would make damn sure he was the last. Oh yes, tonight was **his** night. Tonight the Red Hood ran Gotham, and woe betide any who stood in his way.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be just a filler fic to explain where the rest of the Batfamily was during Arkham Asylum. But it quickly grew into a way for me to merge all my favorite parts of the DCU into my own Batman universe.


End file.
